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I don't know if what my brother did to me can be classified as sexual abuse. I was staying over at his house. It was late at night, and we were watching a movie. At some point, he asked if he could initiate some cuddling. I actually agreed, since we are really close and both enjoy physical affection. While we were spooning, he snuck his hand under my shirt. He didn't say anything, and I didn't say anything. As the night went on, he alternated between different caresses, kisses on my head or the side of my face, and words of affection. I idly stroked his arm back because I felt awkward just lying there. He eventually asked "is this okay?" in reference to his hand inching up my stomach. I was giving him the benefit of the doubt and still thought the action was platonic, plus it felt nice, plus I am a timid person and have a hard time with confrontation, so my brain thinks saying "no" to people is provoking them, so I said "yes". I didn't really want to say it I, though. I don't think I wanted to say "no", wither. I don't think I wanted to say anything at all. I was tired. We both were. His caresses smoothly progressed to the point he was caressing the underside of my breasts. That's when I started really questioning his intentions. He asked "is this okay?" again. I said "yes" again. When the movie ended, I got scared. I had been using it to distract myself from what was happening, and I was afraid that now that there was no distraction, he would shift his whole attention to me and try to initiate something; so I sat up. He lightly squeezed the underside of my breast as I did so, maybe on purpose, or maybe as a reflex. When he realized I was genuinely pulling away, he took back his hands, said: "I'm sorry. Your brother's a creep", and got up to take a shower. I think that's the moment I started freaking out. It's what confirmed my suspicions that his touches really had sexual intent behind them. I had been trying to gaslight myself into believing they were innocent affection, but those words were forcing me to face the reality of my situation. I remember running my mouth non-stop about random topics when we were having breakfast because I was afraid he was going to bring up what just happened and would want to have a conversation about it. I didn't want to talk about it. I wanted to pretend it never happened. I still try to. But it haunts me. He and his wife (who had been sleeping peacefully in their bedroom through the whole night) left early in the morning for their honeymoon (I was there to house-sit, and had come the night before to hang out with them before they left). Once I was alone, I quietly went to their bed to sleep (with their permission and insistance, since there were no other beds in the apartment). As I tried to fall asleep, I still could feel his hands on me, like a phantom touch. I broke down right there. I felt guilty, and disgusting, for not having stopped it and for having enjoyed it too. I felt like maybe I was the creep, and maybe I was the one turning this interaction into something inappropriate. The following weeks, I tried to suppress my feelings. Some days before Christmas, I was on a plane with my mother, about to start our holiday vacation. I was close to my period and my breasts felt sensitive. That triggered something in me and I suddenly teared up right there, in public. That vague ache reminded me of the feeling of that one squeeze he gave to my breast. My mother noticed me about to cry, but I lied and said that's just because I'm close to my period and feeling gloomy (I had been struggling with depression for a while, which she knew.) During the trip, I would get random flashbacks to that night, sometimes even accompanied with feelings of nausea. I felt like I was making my brain overreact somehow, since I hadn't been raped and I shouldn't be traumatized for touching that can barely even be considered intimate. When we got back home, I did something I'm not sure whether I regret it: I talked to him about it. I sent him a long text (he lives in another city, which actually made me feel safer about confronting him) which I barely remember anything about, except that it mentioned "that night" and how I had been upset by it. I broke down while typing it, and it probably wasn't very coherent. My brother sent me many short replies in quick bursts when he saw it. He apologized profusely. He said "I don't know what's wrong with me", "I'll get psychological help", alongside many things I don't remember. That had me freaking out a bit. What did he need psychological help for? Was he admitting he's got urges he can't control? But I didn't say anything related to that. I was afraid of accusing him, and I made sure to clarify I was also to blame for not setting down any boundaries. We were both replying to each other without thinking. We were panicking, and full of adrenaline. I was scared of losing him. He was the only connection I had in the city we both lived in (very far from our hometown, where our parents and my friends all live). I didn't want to upset him, because he's a very sensitive person and I already felt guilty for how I was reacting to it. We somewhat resolved the issue over text. Except we didn't. At all. I pretended we did, but I was still plagued by doubts and paranoia. More than the touching, what haunted me were his words: "I'm sorry. Your brother's a creep." They shook me to my core. All I had wanted was to be in denial about what happened, but those words wouldn't let me. The story goes on to this day, but I don't want to write too much about the aftermath of "that night", since I'd be writing for too long and I want to focus on whether it was an instance of abuse. At this point, I feel a little more grounded and able to accept that what happened had sexual undertones. I am still full of shame and guilt. I did consent to some of the touching. I'm not certain I wanted to, but it is something I did. That would usually make me think this is a consensual encounter and that I simply regret it now, but there are many factors that also contribute to my belief that this could potentially be an instance of abuse too. First of all, my brother was 38 at the time. I was 20, which yes, is an adult, but still; he is my much older brother. He was already nearly an adult by the time I was born. He's been a figure of authority my whole life, even though he likes to pretend he's not. He's a little clueless when it comes to what's appropriate or not in social contexts, but I do think someone his age should know better than to sneak his hand under his little sister's shirt and go up her body so much his fingers actually brush against her areola. Secondly, I am neurodivergent, though I hadn't told him at the time. However, when I did tell him, he said he already had suspicions. Regardless of that, I've always been quiet and withdrawn, so it upsets that he initiated touching under the guise of innocent affection and then expected me to be able to express my discomfort when it escalated without him specifying it was going to. I don't think his form of seeking consent was productive at all either. He only asked me if two specific touches were okay, and only after starting to do them. He didn't ask for explicit permission for anything but the cuddling at the start. What I want to say is that I was vulnerable. I am young, inexperienced, autistic, and he has always been an emotional support and almost parental figure to me. I don't know how he can be so naive as to think he doesn't have any power over me. Maybe he does know that, but wasn't thinking at the time. I still don't get why he would touch me like that. I find a little solace in thinking that maybe I didn't have any control over it after all. But I don't know. Maybe I did. I am an adult after all. And I do believe he would have stopped if I had told him to. But I definitely never gave any enthusiastic consent. I feel betrayed. I feel lost. I feel angry. I feel sad. I've been avoiding thinking about it for months. Tonight, it all came back to me once more and I broke down again. I truly don't know what to do. I don't want to tell anyone close to me what happened because I am ashamed. I certainly don't want to tell my parents. I kind of want to cut ties with him, but at the same time I don't because I truly believe he is remorseful about it and I don't want to make him sad. I can't help being naive. I don't know if that's comforting, or embarrassing.

I was conditioned to think catcalling was a compliment, that if someone held your waist a little too long at work it was just cause "ahh they're just a bit touchy", that it's easier to just "go with it" than to say no and risk their response. It took me years to identify that no matter the degree of your experiences it still is never ok. We often get told sexual violence is one way but it isn't, it comes in many forms and sometimes you can't identify it at first - and that's ok. I am only recently coming to terms with the varying degrees of experiences I've had. I didn't want to say anything because I was made to believe I'd "rock the boat". Well some boats are meant to sink. Let's rebuild the boat so everyone can stay afloat, included and safe.

In my survival story, "Just Words, Dirty Words", I shared so much and I brushed over an experience with a male gynecologist. It was a much bigger deal that I let on because it had triggered my previous abuse as an adolescent on my first job. I wonted other girls and women to understand what is not okay for a gynecologist to do. It was not until after it happened that I realized the full impact. I realized I had let myself be victimized again without trying to stop it. I felt self-loathing and anxiety. I write this letter to that opportunistic predator. You broke your oath. You betrayed the trust. You are terrible! I have done research on what a breast and pelvic exam is supposed be like and understand you used the framework to sexually assault me. I was late for the appointment to get birth control at the university clinic when I had just moved for college. You let me in even though you had no nurse chaperon, it seemed that you might have sent them home after putting me in the room. You are a man and that is against policy. We shared our first eye contact and I ignored your lust and first glance flirtation. You saw I was vulnerable and needed something from you. You told me as a new patient you have to do a full first visit exam. Now I believe you may have lied. I nodded and put down my guard. When you returned I was undressed wearing a paper smock for a false sense of security. I was self conscious even though I had impeccable hygiene and grooming but worried I was not fresh enough so late in the day because you were a man and you made it sexual. You examined my breasts with no gloves. I said nothing. I knew you were massaging them for you pleasure. You went on for five minutes like that. I think five whole minutes while you kept talking. When my boss used to molest me just seconds was plenty to make me feel sick and used. He would sit on my torso, compressing my ribs to the point I could not take a deep breath and have sex with my breasts and he usually took less time than you. do remember you used the words “wonderful” and “amazing” when commenting on by breast health. We could both smell the musk from down below from stimulating me like that. I was embarrassed. You should have been the one ashamed! You mentioned the textures and gave some instructional anatomy to pretend it might be official. You asked random questions and you shared personal stories like it was a date. All the while you were groping my tits like a pervert. Both hands at the same time! I tried to cover for you by pretending like this was not insane and not a sexual assault. You were twice my age and your mustache was ridiculous. You finally moved on to the pelvic exam. You said the words, “Very nice” when you lifted up the paper drape to help my feet into the stirrups. That is not appropriate when viewing a patient’s vagina for the first time. You explained every step from “I’m going to touch your thighs now” to “take a deep breath as I insert the speculum”. That part was quick but then you explained the manual exam that you did for too long. You inserted two fingers to check for cervical motion tenderness but rubbed my clitoris with your lubricated thumb as you did so. That was wrong! You explained that you were going to move your other hand to check for tenderness of my ovaries to check for infection but kept working your other hand on my clit and inside me. You put what felt like three fingers in me! You were sexually assaulting me again. Breaching my trust. Ignoring you oath. As a last indignity you felt for masses in the space between my vagina and rectum. You left your thumb in my vagina while you put a finger in my anus and moved them both back and in and out explaining you thought you felt something for a second but it resolved on massage, meaning it was nothing to worry about. You raped me! That was rape! I looked it up and what you were doing is a real part of an exam but no gynecologist had done that before then or ever since! Instead of leaving the room while I dressed you stayed and helped by holding out my clothes! Totally inappropriate! You should not have a medical license! Sure I let you, and I cooperated, and even tried to endure it and put on a pleasant face. I was a different person then and you just continued my cycle of being abused by men. But the anus part was where I felt true terror and wanted to get out. You gave me a business card with your name on it and told me to call and ask when you were working to schedule next visit. Then you only wrote me for 1 refill on 30 day birth control! Like I would even come back to be assaulted again. You smug abuser of power and trust! I left with you thinking I enjoyed that and would see you again!!! You make me want to scream and pound on things! It was delayed, but my abuse anxiety was triggered that night, and days after. I will never see a male gynecologist again. Your lust and greed is not better than that of a rapist. You broke my trust in the medical system and I still get anxiety at any doctor visit. Just because a girl’s reaction to abuse is not instant, because of some survival mechanism, does not make it any less painful. Sometimes even more, because we feel guilty for not being strong and assertive. You were in a position of authority and abused it so badly. You should be ashamed, doctor! You should be in prison!

I never associated my assaults as sexual assaults. I always just saw it as a thing that happened me that was upsetting until recently. I was groped, forced into having sex and preforming oral sex on him. I remember one time he offered to drive me home. I lived over 40 mins from town so I thought i could save myself €60 in a taxi. Until I realised we were going in the opposite direction to my house. He drove me to secluded area. I knew it wasn't right I said no said I was due my period I tried everything I could to deter him. It didn't work. I can't drive that road without a feeling of dread. I do feel part to blame and I know that's wrong. I hate how it makes me feel. When I hear stories in the news I can't help but think my story isn't as bad as theirs or that maybe mine wasn't rape or a sexual assault. I hate myself for thinking it.

They say that the people you love are supposed to protect and care for you. I believed that for a very long time, until January 26th, 2021. That day changed my life forever. I had been talking to this boy on and off for over a year, and I loved him very much. Looking back, I was very naive and oblivious to the fact that he was manipulative, spiteful, and all around just a horrible person. He would control every aspect of my life. What I wore, who I hung out with, what I did everyday, what I ate. I was a prisoner. I had him over to watch a movie, and told him before hand I didn’t want to do anything. He came over, snuggled up with me, and we began watching a movie. You know that feeling you get when something wrong but you just don’t know what, I had that feeling, but ignored it. He kissed me, which was okay with me. Then he started groping me and pinning me down so I couldn’t move. I froze up, I had no idea what was happening and I was so scared that if I tried to stop him, he would get angry and just do whatever he wanted to me. So he kept going and I was in such shock I couldn’t move or speak. I finally got him off of me before he could, you know. But he left after he realized what had happened. I have been traumatized in my own mental prison and I didn’t tell anyone. His parent is a cop and I didn’t think anyone would believe me over him. I feel so trapped. Over the course of two months, I’ve developed an eating disorder, insomnia, and I have at least four panic attacks a day. It’s actual hell. Only one person knows what happened, my best friend. She’s been my rock through this. I’m starting to not blame myself as much and point the blame where it’s due. I don’t want him to control me anymore than he used to.

I was six years old and I was friends with this girl who was also six. She was over at my house and we were sitting on the bed. I remember her asking me to play family and that I was the dad and she was the mom. She told me that I had to take all my clothes off because i was the 'dad' and she undressed from below the waist. After I did she just pushed me onto the bed and climbed on top of me. I just remember that she was sort of rubbing against me and I was so uncomfortable and I just wanted her to stop, but I was scared that we wouldn't be friends anymore if I did, so I just laid there and waited for it to be over. That is probably my oldest memory.

I had repressed memories of my COCSA, but bits and pieces began to pop up into adulthood. I was so focused on school that I forgot everything, but once I graduated high school, I remembered some instances and almost took my own life. Now, I’ve graduated university and I feel so lost and continuously invalidated by the people who failed to protect me. My perpetrator was my cousin (M) a few years younger than me (F). It started when I was around 12yrs old until I was 16 and it involved grinding, groping, force-smelling genitals, violence, threats with violence, and possibly more… I just remember waking up to him towering over me and staring at me in my sleep. I don’t know what happened in my sleep. My mind still blocked out the memories to protect myself, but I can’t get the image of him towering over me away. That, and the many dreams I had in adulthood of young boys violating me in my sleep but I was frozen and unable to move. I knew what bad touches were. I was told by my dad to tell him if something were to happen. So I did. I told him as I was taught to, but was told “boys will be boys” “he’s just a kid” “you’re overreacting”. If it were an adult touching me, I would’ve been taken more seriously. I believed for YEARS that I was overreacting to the touching, but deep down I knew that I wasn’t. I held guilt for years “I was older. I should’ve gotten him help. I should’ve spoken up more. I should’ve gotten his sister help (he also touched her in similar ways)”. Then I forgot everything for a few years until after high school graduation. Almost took my own life as mentioned previously and went into university. Graduated and memories came back until I entered grad school. After that, almost everything came back. Many instances where he even grinded on me in front of family members, drew an image of him shooting me because I got mad he was touching me, unhooking my bra during a wedding (I was sitting in front of him) and my dad getting upset at me for crying, and the most recent was when I was 16 (at this time I forgot the extent of his abuse) and he laid on top of me erect in front of his dad and mine. No one said or did anything. I just told myself “Just pretend it’s my bf. It’ll be over soon”. Why did I freeze and not say anything? Looking back, it was probably a trauma response. I processed my trauma in therapy and gained a better understanding of what I went through. I even talked to this cousin and he apologized, then shared that his dad would show him sexual movies and violent films at a young age (around 6), then gave him an iPad with no parental controls and full access to adult sites in which he tried to practice some of the things in the videos with me. His dad even sexualized him, groping his chest and calling them boobs in public. All because he wanted his son to be a “macho alpha male”. I talked to my dad about what I went through and how my uncle had made my cousin that way by basically grooming him. But my dad then invalidated me saying some of the same things I heard as a kid when I tried to voice what was happening “He was just a kid. He didn’t know any better. He’s a good guy now though, right? You have to get over it. The past is the past. I don’t want to hear it - that’s my brother”. I am aware this is his shameful reaction to not helping me back then, but it sent me into depression. After many months of persisting him to know what’s happening, he finally caved and said that many years ago when my abuse first started happening, he told his brother (my cousin’s dad) that his son was touching me. My uncle refused to acknowledge it and walked away. And that was that. My dad said he didn’t push further because “we were just kids” but shouldn’t that be more concerning that we were just kids? That was the ONLY attempt at getting me help?? I’ve dealt with so much and still expected to “just get over it”. I felt alone in this. The first person who believed me had to be a PAID professional. The adults in my family failed me. I was very vocal about it too. My aunt even overheard me saying to his sister “This is payback for -Name- touching us inappropriately!” when I versed him in video games and this aunt said/did nothing. Looking back, this female cousin of mine and I have been heavily sexualized growing up by our dads. I feel so grossed out and see how it had affected my self-expression, my sexuality, my view of males, and how I viewed myself and relationships. I remember gaining weight and dressing more masculine to make myself unattractive to my perpetrator and stop the sexual comments from our dads, but it did not stop. I hated how I looked. Instead, I was still sexualized and also made fun of because of my weight. My family failed both me and my perpetrator because he disclosed to me that he is absolutely terrified of forming a relationship with a girl and is now unsure of his sexual orientation. I still feel uncomfortable around this cousin and some moments that set off alarm bells in my head. Therapy helped a lot. I plan on moving far away with my gf and limiting contact with my family except the one female cousin I’m very close with. Sometimes I wish I had forgotten and stayed blind to everything, especially when I learned growing up that “family is everything”. I had to learn new things to replace what my family had taught me and made me believe in myself. COCSA should be taken as seriously as SA between 2 adults or a child and an adult. And parents should be more aware of things like this - focus on helping the children involved rather than protecting yourself from feeling shame. COCSA is a topic not widely discussed, so I’m glad there’s an organization such as this one. It gives me hope. Thank you for reading.

Wow, first of all. How empowering. I can't even fully talk to therapists or my family support workers because I'm afraid I'll have to make statements. I've been sexually assaulted and raped more times than I can remember. One particularly tough event, my ex, my child's fathers. Well I was passed out. I woke up to him carefully pulling out of my body. I ran to the toilet. Sick with shock. I had a protection order but I had let my guard down and gotten drunk with neighbours the night before. I called my sister. She came to bring me to an emergency chemist. I took the morning after pill. Month came, the Date and I still hadn't got my period. The test was positive. I had to illegally obtain tablets and have an abortion in my sisters house. Very sad and awful time of my life. This platform is a god send.

It started as sexual harassment. And I let it happen. Do not let it happen to you! I was a college intern working on my supply-chain management major. In business school you know you don’t just get a degree and POOF! A job is magically waiting for you. Unless you already have connections. I was a single woman on financial aid and had squat for family connections. I needed to make some connections while still in school that I could use to climb the ladder. It is a very competitive world. A time when we don’t care so much where we work as long as it has prospects of advancement and making money. I was interning at the corporate offices for a rental car company. I got my first choice for a class in which we had to intern at a real company. My group of four was in their logistics offices and we had no clear job at the time but my school had sent students for a while so we had a contact person and some loose idea of a project that my group of four had to put together and execute for our grade. Well that was kind of of dud and I went along with the bad idea of planning more efficient distribution routes for their cars entering the fleet. It was naive because the company had real pros who designed the system. But, because of my feminine wiles, I got invited to come in and help in my free time by a top manager. Just me. I jumped at the opportunity and on my available days I showed up early in the morning and tried to be like part of the team. It was a very masculine environment. I tried to hang in spite of the pretenses for my special treatment. “You’re not one of those feminist types who go crying to HR if a man gives you a compliment or a pat on the backside, are you?” The man who first invited me had asked. We’ll call him XX. I assured him I was not, anticipating his expected answer. “Work hard, play hard,” was something I said in my denial of values he was obviously opposed to. So the couple times XX introduced me as his mistress I went along with the joke. Another stupid mistake. As an example of my environment, after a male Y in the department first showed me how to use part of a program that calculates stock outages, he had me sit and try it and gave me a massage I did not ask for early in the morning. Well XX came up and made a joke about Y getting his hands of his girl. They had some bro moment where the male Y asked him if he was serious, saying something about XX’s wife, to which XX backed down and said something like “It’s just a joke. I’d love to in my fantasies, but she’s company property, brother.” Company property??! I was sitting right there! I tensed up but tried to pretend I was so absorbed in the computer training as XX left and male Y went back to massaging me, but this time more boldly. He got down my lower back and upper buttock then went down the arms to my thighs, stopping me from doing any work as he blatantly brushed his forearms and hands against my chest. I felt so weak and almost paralyzed by the time I forced myself to stand up to go use the restroom, stopping it. I could have just done that at the beginning but did not. Later hat same day, XX had me go to lunch with him and have a beer at a bar and grill with a pool table. I was 20 but they did not ask for my ID because I was with XX. I hardly ever played pool and while we waited for our food he “showed” me how to play. He made fun of the cliché on movies and television where a man has a woman bend over the pool table to shoot just so he can push his crotch against her backside in a suggestive manger and lean over her with his arms on each side of her to show her how to slide the stick. But while he joked about it he actually did those things to me! That was a good day for my two main molesters and an awful day for me. XX hugged me as we stood up giggling and apparently his hands now had a license to molest my body whenever he wanted. I got numb to it in some ways, but emotionally more on edge. My butt was grabbed or spanked playfully in the department, even by male Y. A few other men were very flirtatious. My shoulders were rubbed, hugs on even minor greetings with XX and finally I was supposed to get used to little pecks on the lips too. I felt like I was in a constant state of mental anguish and defensiveness. My body could be attacked anytime. But I did not defend myself! I would say clearly to XX and some others that I wanted to be respected and considered one of the guys and have a job there when I graduated and they affirmed it. Both main abusers encouraged me, but still sexually harassed me. With my moronic blessing! The semester ended and I kept going in daily during summer break. It was my only lifeline to a possible job after I graduated in a year. I was so groomed that it was not a big leap at all when XX pressured me to give him head in his office. I refused with a smile and head shake and he came back with some rationalization about how I owed him and he really needed it just then. He would not take no for an answer. The first time I lowered myself to kneeling before his desk and took him in my mouth my hands were shaking and I teared up and had to sniffle snot back up. I was the one who was embarrassed! It was like an out of body experience and my mouth dried up to where I had to ask him to drink some of his energy drink. Internally there was a huge change immediately. I was gutted of all pride and self-worth. I was like a zombie. Hardly eating. Lots of coffee. Showing up and doing the reports that had become my responsibility and mechanically giving XX his daily BJ in the afternoon in his small stale office with a small window. I started to have migraines during that summer. I drove home for 4th of July and got so inebriated I ended up sleeping with my much older sister’s ex-husband in the back of his truck. That was a terrible wake up call. I knew I couldn’t pretend much longer without a breakdown so I put my two week in at the rental car place where I was working for free. To secure my future I made sure to keep it all friendly and “you know I’ll be back working here next year”. The idea of all the time and humiliation I had put in being lost to nothing was a major fear. I put myself through two last weeks of it. I had quickie sex with XX twice on and over his desk. I gave into extreme pressure and gave male Y a BJ too when he explicitly made it about a letter of recommendation. He knew about me doing it for XX. He did not even have his own office and we had to use the stairwell. During my final year of school I became aware that I was too traumatized to ever go back there anyway. The extent to which I had been used and abused became obvious to me, where before it had not. As if I had been living in a denial haze. It was a painful time. I was a bit reckless. I got a C in the high level economics elective I took. I said yes to several dates to avoid being alone and either slept with them or freaked out in anger at them. Seeing that I needed the car rental faux-internship on my resume I did email both abusers for letters of recommendation and got a good one from Male Y, but a very impersonal, generic one from XX. I was so dejected and angry. Finally, I told my sister, the one who confronted me about her ex-husband. I TOLD HER EVERYTHING AND THAT WAS MY FIRST STEP TO RECOVERY. To letting out the pain, screaming at myself in the mirror, punching the heavy bag at a boxing gym I joined, and to seeing my first psychologist and psychiatrist. The therapy helped more than the Celexa and antipsych. The support group helped even more. I met two friends for life who have my back in times of sorrow. I have to repeat that it is not my fault that I was abused, even though it kind of was. Don’t let it happen to you! They will take as much as they can from you. Plan your boundaries now and be assertive! Report harassment immediately. Doing so you are being a hero and protecting other women and yourself. If you have already been abused, GET OUT of the situation and talk to someone about it ASAP. There is nothing to be gained by letting the abuse continue! Talking to someone makes it real and lets you start the process of hating less and starting on the path to learning to love yourself again. You deserve real love.

I won't protect him anymore. I won't hide what he did. I won't suffer in silence because the atrocities of what happened makes the bystanders uncomfortable when I tell my story. Sit with it. Feel the discomfort. Feel a crumb of the fear I felt every day I came home from school. Feel the shame of not believing me when I said I was afraid for my life, and you denied me shelter. Sent me back to the place where I was supposed to feel safety, but instead feared for my life by my father. He tells me "a parents' job is to be better than their parents were to them." Well the bar was set pretty damn low. Just because your dad was abusive too, doesn't give you an excuse to abuse me. How is my heart opened and more compassionate after how you've broken it, but yours only wants to break others? I didn't choose to be born. You brought me into this world, and you made it very clear that you could take me out of it, if you so desired. I loved you. I still love you. The hardest part of all of this was fighting the childlike, optimistic image I had of you. I still fight it. Everything in my soul wants to love you. Wants to have more of your "good days." But the other side of me hates that you stole my childhood. For haunting my dreams. For the everyday fear - even though I've moved thousands of miles away. Bystanders - don't tell me "one day things will be okay, and you will talk to your father again." He can't change.

Ten days after my daughterX discharge from the hospital, where she had undergone brain surgeries for epilepsy, X was resting in her bedroom and my ex-husband asked me to help him buy something online. I said no (very unusual but I was fixing something for X. to eat) and he exploded, throwing hot coffee on me then trashing the kitchen. And for the first time, a light bulb went on in my mind. The light said, "This is going to stop." Once he saw that something fundamental had changed inside me - that I was indeed serious - he escalated his tactics week by week. We had been married for almost 20 years, and he was absolutely incredulous that I was leaving him. All he knew how to do in response was more assault, more threats, more stalking, more financial theft. He was out of his mind. At one point he stood on the steps outside our house screaming "Why didn't you abort the kids?" over and over. For about 6-8 months I'm pretty sure he was considering doing a murder/suicide. I had to leave everything behind to get away - the home, friends, my job. I sold everything of value that I owned. Since I had grown up in a home of domestic violence, I didn't understand it very well, even as I was being victimized. I didn't know that shoving someone, kicking someone, and throwing objects or hot liquid at someone are all against the law. I didn't know that insults, name-calling, and coercive sex aren't part of normal relationships. I didn't know how dishonest my ex-husband was (and is).

My sisters visiting home since her summer job wrapped up, and she invited her boyfriend since they’re madly in love or something. Growing up, I was the one she was in love with. I was the one she wanted to date. The one she made advances on even when I’d scram no, the one who’d leer at me when I changed. She loved me then, but now she loves her boyfriend. She talks to him the same way she used to talk to me—she loves him the same way she loved me. I still live in fear of her making advances again—I watch her like a hawk when she walks behind me, I scream at her and belittle her, I make it clear that if she pulls anything I will make sure she can’t get away with it like she could when I was small, naive, and scared of my parents. But despite it all, I feel heartbroken. She just discarded me like I was nothing the second she found a more receptive person. She doesn’t even fucking talk about me to her friends, she doesn’t even mention me. I’m glad that her and her boyfriend are happy but it doesn’t feel fair that she gets to live her life like nothing happened when I’m stuck terrified of every person in my life becoming like her. I wish shed acknowledge what she did to me. I wish she realized it was wrong. It makes me sick that she doesn’t know, and it makes me sick that she doesn’t care enough about me to even try questioning her worldview. It never should’ve happened, but that doesn’t mean it should be swept under the rug because it did.

I would like to help women ( or men) learn that you can overcome the difficulty of leaving Domestic Violence and start life , in my case, for the 1st time I was "married" for 20 years in the DV and have been out for 13 years. It is a difficult process, but worth the effort to give yourself your life.

I’m 20 now; when I was 13 a childhood friend started to see me in a more (clearly) sexual light. I wasn’t very attractive as a child (big curly hair, acne, too tall for my age), so when he began to show interest I didn’t discourage it. I even flirted back. We met at our old middle school, once, before our freshman year of highschool. He didn’t want to look at me, he only wanted to touch me. He kissed me in a way that’s irrepetible because of how violating it was. Once we started highschool, he asked to come over to my house. I thought he was just joking because it was 9pm at the time. He took me behind my apartment complex and wouldn’t listen to me when i said stop. I told one of my sophomore friends, who reported it to the school as a sexual assault. He and I had separate meetings with the school, and our schedules were changed. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about what happened, because of how popular he was. He began going around our school telling everyone he had r***d me (he hadn’t). Then he flipped the narrative that, of course i was lying. I would hear girls talking about me when I was sitting right in front of them. I wanted my story to be heard. I wanted everyone to know what he did to me. Nobody listened. Nobody cared. Nobody apologized to me. “He didnt do it to me, and he’s still my friend, sooo….” is what I heard from 80% of the girls that I told. That experience cracked me. When I was 15, I was (ACTUALLY) r***d by a 34 year old man. I felt like I was ruined goods. I felt like nobody cared about what happened to me, nobody cared that I was so traumatized that i didn’t care if i lived or died. Later that year, I met a 19 year old who got me on fentanyl. I would overdose 4 times in front of him. After the last one, he told me I had wasted money and product with my overdose. We stayed together until I was 16.5 and he was about to be 21. He ‘cheated’ on me with a 14 year old and countless of his friends. By 17, I realized my Prince Charming was never going to come save me, and I had to do it myself. I decided to start my own life. Stop living in the past, and get my shit together. I enrolled in community college hoping to get my nursing degree eventually. Realized that wasn’t the right path for me, and now I’m 2 months away from graduating from a prestigious cosmetology school & am the executive assistant at a 5 star salon. For some of us, it’s on ourselves to pick the pieces up and put everything back together. Now that I am 20 years old, I feel that i’ve lost so much time suffering in my silence, so much youth wasted as an anxious puddle who didn’t want to be perceived. Live for your future. Live for the laughter and the smiles. Every day we make it through, is a day we accomplished. Some days will be better than others, but we’re always moving forwards, never backwards.

When most teenagers get their wisdom teeth pulled, they’re scared of cursing in front of their parents. I’m scared of revealing my deepest secret.

Hearing other people's stories make em feel not alone

I had posted something before and I don't know if it's okay to post this here but I hope it is. I am so angry right now and just had to get this out. My Loved One’s suicide attempt. Multiple attempts if we are being accurate. I want to start by telling you, I am no stranger to the suicide world and suicide ideation. I suffer from Major Depressive Disorder and when I became involved with my Loved One (LO.), I knew I had met someone who would/could understand my depression as I understood theirs (to a degree). I also knew that if I continued the relationship there might be a time when we might need to lean on each other (hopefully not at the same time). My previous career also had me working with families of victims of Suicide in the direct aftermath of completed suicide (my company came in and cleaned the scene. I want to apologize for the length of this and please understand that I have had to consolidate 12+ months into a few pages and its barely a drop in the bucket of this story. For All Intents and Purposes (there are 4 main people in this story; plus myself as the storyteller) Below are the abbreviations I am using throughout the story KP = K Provider (CRNA). *My loved one was their patient* L.O.= Loved One (The Patient) Psych Nurse (Nurse Practitioner – Psychiatric Nurse. *My loved one was their patient* LMHC = (License Mental Health Counselor/Therapist) *My loved one was their patient* The K Provider owns their independent clinic The Psych Nurse owns their practice and the LMHC is their employee Suicide Attempt One In Month, Year– my L.O. (L.O.) was given two back-to-back high-dose K infusions from KP (KP) (two days in a row). The decision to give my L.O. two back-to-back infusions was made by the KP and the Psych Nurse. The KP took my L.O. back to their home (KP’s home, not L.O.’s home) and also fed them 4mg of their (KP’s) personal Ativan, to “calm them down”. My L.O. sent a message to their psychiatric nurse (who assisted in scheduling the back-to-back infusions) and pleaded to never be left alone again after a K infusion with their abuser (the KP). The following day a 2nd high-dose K infusion was given to my L.O. along with more (personal) Ativan and afterward dropped off at a relative’s home. This time the they were not taken back to the KP’s home (as previously described “the abuser” from the previous day/evening’s infusion). My L.O. was in a lot of distress after this 2nd high-dose treatment and tried reaching out to the KP but they found their number was blocked from receiving calls/texts. It is assumed they were blocked because my L.O. didn’t want to go home with the KP. My L.O. began reaching out to their psychiatric nurse. But was met by the psychiatric Nurse telling them to stop contacting KP. The more and more my L.O. reached out (via texts and calls) the Psych Nurse told them “you are manic and scaring me”. They were told to “stop calling” (the Psych Nurse) because “they were not going to answer the telephone”. They didn’t want to take a call because “it would wake up their entire home and “my child is sleeping”. Both KP and the Psych Nurse knew they had given my L.O. two high dose back to back infusions and ignored them. Cut them off from help. They were supposed mental health care providers. (It has been learned) My L.O. was having a paradoxical psychosis due to the (2) high-dose K infusions and all of the Ativan that the KP and Psych Nurse had been giving them. The KP was supplying their own prescribed Ativan to my L.O. The Psych nurse had given them a prescription for Ativan a day before. Neither KP or Psych Nurse would answer calls (as stated above), in the midst of the paradoxical psychosis and their providers ignoring them…My L.O. slit their throat open to end their life, sending out final text messages and photos to the psych nurse stating “I hope you and KP are happy for what you have done to me.” This is when the psych nurse decided that my L.O. needed help and 911 was called. EMS and First responders were able to get to & save the life of my L.O. Everyone in the house that evening now has PTSD and became traumatized from this suicide attempt as they are all over 80 years old, because the Psych Nurse and the KP failed their patient. They (KP and Psych Nurse) chose to use more than the average standard dose per mg/kg/hr dose of K and continue to give Ativan to control the patient. The Psych Nurse has ZERO formal training on K administration. The KP is a cRNA and was only trained by their former employer, before opening their clinic. The KP has ZERO formal training in psychiatric and mental health matters or therapy to treat patients’ mental health. ****It should be noted that the Day before the 1st Infusion the KP stated in the morning to my L.O. they were going to admit themselves to in-patient care because they were “not well.” It should also be noted that the same evening the Psych Nurse told my L.O. They were going to “Baker Act” the KP, because they were not well. The KP never admitted themselves to an inpatient facility. The Psych Nurse never baker acted the KP. What did happen the following day(s) was the KP and Psych Nurse administered the High Dose Infusions to my loved one. (All of this is documented in text messages) 3 days were spent in a baker act. The psychiatrist at the hospital asked my L.O why they had attempted to take their life. My L.O. told the doctor. They were in a romantic relationship with KP and the KP had been mentally and emotionally abusing them and they were having issues in their relationship because the KP was still actively involved with their abusive spouse. The psychiatrist at the hospital interviewed the KP and the KP lied and stated that they were not in a relationship with the patient. And that my L.O. was confused “it was the anniversary of the breakup of their previous relationship” , and they were having a hard time with it. (This is documented in my L.O.’s health records). It can be proven that the KP was in a relationship with my L.O. and the text messages sent to them before and after the suicide attempt show how “IN LOVE and didn’t want to lose them”. KP was also going to visit my L.O. during visiting hours and cuddling with them in the day room of the facility. AT THIS POINT YOU MIGHT BE THINKING WAIT WHAT? THE KP was in a Relationship with your Loved One, the Patient? HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?? HOW DID THAT START? The Grooming of My Loved One My L.O. was referred to the KP by their Psych Nurse provider, stating that K treatments would be beneficial and that they wanted them to see the KP, to help with their treatment-resistant depression. My L.O. stated that during the first 4 months of treatment, they would wake up and the KP was sitting in the room talking to them after their infusions. The K provider called it “therapy time”. The K Provider is only a CRNA and in Statutes this is practicing outside of their scope. The K provider would text message the patient excessively. In the first month alone the provider sent over 500 text messages to the patient. The 2nd month over 1200 text messages which included inappropriate photographs. The KP provider also would talk about their former drug use, current alcohol and partying ways, and body modifications such as piercings. They would also speak about how often they were hit on while they were out at functions and conferences. The provider once gave my L.O. a ride home and while parked outside of a relatives house, disclosed that they were unhappy in their marriage and told them personal things about how bad things were in their marital home. My L.O. still under the influence of the K infusion sat quietly and did not respond. The provider was constantly texting my L.O. and crossed many boundaries at this point, many of the text messages were personal and selfies, and some were inappropriate and sexual of nature. The KP provider even suggested that my L.O to give food poisoning to their new romantic partner; to go through their wallet to confirm their identity and age. One evening after providing a K infusion to my L.O. (after 4 months of text messages and “therapy time” after K treatments ) the KP confessed they had fallen in love with them, and they hated their abusive spouse and would leave them if my L.O. felt the same way. Because they felt that my L.O. had feelings for them. ** Remember For 4 months the KP had been sitting in on every infusion and been slowly grooming and manipulating my L.O.** My L.O. stated they were attracted to the KP. The KP took this as their cue and then undressed my L.O. and proceeded to have sex with them. From here on out the KP laid stakes on my L.O. and this marked the beginning of the relationship between the KP and my L.O.(the patient) The KP mandated the patient break up with their romantic partner, even though the KP was married and had not initiated a divorce. The KP then confessed to the Psych Nurse that they had engaged in sex with the patient and were now in a relationship. The Psych Nurse then reached out to a divorce attorney and assisted in obtaining legal counsel so that the KP could file for divorce and be with my L.O. The Psych Nurse even went as far to blind CC my Loved on the email sent to the divorce attorney. The Psych Nurse then purchased a burner phone so that my L.O. (patient ) and the KP could talk and not be discovered by the KP’s spouse. The KP also mandated that the patient download and use “WhatsApp” to have conversations, to hide from their spouse, and send photos of their genitals, since they could set the messages to disappear after 24 hours. The Psych Nurse did not report the KP for having sexual relations with a patient. The Psych Nurse encourages the relationship. It is believed that the psych nurse also instructed my L.O.’s licensed mental health counselor to not report the relationship. After the relationship was established the KP began even more sick and diabolical actions of imprinting themselves on my L.O. The KP provided free infusions to my L.O. and would engage in intercourse as my L.O. was coming to after an infusion. It is believed that this is part of the reason my L.O. is “trauma bonded” to the KP. The KP would unhook the IV from the pump and engage in sex, while my loved one was still in the recliner. The KP also mandated that my L.O. refrain from taking certain prescription medications to make the sex better for them so they could engage in hours of sex. During the first month (30 days) of the relationship with the KP, my L.O. attempted to break things off due to experiencing mental abuse from KP. The KP would have mental breakdowns and claim they were going to kill themself if they broke up. The KP was still living with their spouse but would often rent hotel rooms so they could have sex. But the majority of sex happened right inside of the clinic on the floor or in the patient chairs, until the KP moved out of their marital home, 45 days after the first sexual encounter with the patient. During the 2nd month of the relationship, it became very apparent the KP was abusive, my L.O. attempted to get out of the relationship because they began to feel that it was detrimental to their health; the gaslighting, manipulation, verbal psychological, and mental abuse were too much for them. The KP again threatened to commit suicide if they broke up. The KP promised to be better and get better “help” and would go get a therapist. The KP then started counseling from my L.Os mental health counselor and began to see the Psych Nurse who was treating my loved one. KP claimed that they could not find anyone else in the very large city they reside in. I believe this was to cover up the relationship, as this relationship was highly illegal and against State statutes to have sex with your mental health patient. The Psych Nurse and the LMHC both covered up this relationship and failed to report it to the Department of Health or State Nursing Board. The Psych Nurse and the LMHC both profited off the patient by billing the insurance company for psycho-therapy sessions from both the KP and my loved one. The Psych Nurse also encouraged the relationship, so it is believed that they did not want to say anything because they did not report the relationship from when they learned about it two months prior. The KP also had the LMHC treat their children as patients as they were having a difficult time dealing with the impending divorce and break up of their family. The KP had begun bringing my L.O. in as a “parental figure” and stated to my L.O. that the children loved them, and they needed them in their lives. They ask about them all the time. My L.O. does not have children of their own and it made them feel as if they finally had the family they always dreamed of. This was again another manipulation tactic of the K.P. Over the course of the entire relationship, every time my L.O. tried or attempted to terminate the intimate personal relationship the KP would have a “mental meltdown” and state they were going to kill themselves. They often made dramatic outbursts and comments of “someone needs to take care of my patients” or would physically hurt themselves in front of my L.O. and children by hitting themselves or laying on the floor and crying clutching bottles of alcohol. The K.P. would also state they would sell the K clinic as it was not worth their life. In the third month of the relationship, the KP tried to smooth things over by taking my L.O. on an all-expenses paid trip to Saint Augustine. While in the shower the KP shoved their finger up the anus of my L.O. My L.O. told them to stop and they didn’t want that and asked “Why would you do that, we have both talked about butt sex and we both said we never wanted that? KP stated said… because “it happened to me and I felt you were safe, I needed to do it to you so I could see if I could get over being anally violated”. The KP sexually assaulted my L.O. to “get over” something they had experienced in the past by another partner. I'm not sure how that works… I’ve been raped before and I have never had to rape someone else to get over it. My L.O. finally broke off the relationship with the KP. But the KP again tried one last attempt to keep the relationship and rope my L.O. back into it, by claiming they were going to kill themselves. The KP even sent “Goodbye” texts to their shared Psychiatric Nurse. The KP didn’t do any harm to themselves. They were just crying wolf like the many times before. After a month of gaining clarity and feeling they had gotten to a safe space, my L.O., decided that they needed to contact the Department of Health and report the KP for having sex with their patient(s). They were afraid that the KP might seek another victim and use K again to gain control over another patient. Currently, it is unclear if this was an isolated event (relationship/sexual encounter) or if it has happened before. But the threat was still there, and it needed to be reported. What is clear though the provider has had an affair with another KP (their former boss). KP is unethical in many ways. KP did confess to my L.O. that they had copied their former boss’s ( K provider) patient list (the one they had an affair with) to build their business. My L.O. contacted the Department of Health and reported the provider. In retaliation, KP went to the county court and placed a stalking injunction against my L.O.. stating that my L.O. was stalking them and they were afraid of them. This is the same provider who sent 500+ text messages to the patient in the first month 1200+ in the second month sent inappropriate photographs to their patient, and invited them out on outings to spend time outside of the K clinic. The provider even asked them to come to the Walk-a-ton for suicide awareness last year, so they could spend time together. My L.O. declined as they were going to be spending time with their significant other (the one the KP wanted to give food poisoning to). In the 7 months that the provider knew my L.O., the text conversations (mostly from the provider) totaled over 900 PDF pages (all of which are in my possession). Suicide attempt Two In Month, Year, everything became too much for my L.O. They had been spiraling since March because of the PTSD of the KP; manipulation, gaslighting, and psychological, emotional, and mental abuse. The false accusation The provider filed in court and with the police. The KP created a trauma bond and groomed my L.O. to fall in love with them all under the influence of K. Because the KP wanted to be in a relationship with my L.O. (the patient). It must be noted My L.O. paid for these treatments (the first 4 months). They had been giving hundreds and hundreds of dollars in the hope that their mental health could be healed. My L.O. trusted this KP with their mental health. And it almost cost them their life. I still fear that it will. In July my L.O. drove to the parking lot of the KP’s clinic and in the middle of the night and attempted suicide. I had luckily been at my L.O.’s home and noticed my L.O. had left the house and figured out why they left. I was able to call 911 and assist the sheriff’s office in finding them. I don’t even know physical the address of my own doctor’s office. And I was able to recite every address I knew where my L.O. could be. I don’t even live in the same city as my L.O. I live over 3 hours from them and was just visiting and taking care of them because they were having an exceptionally hard time. I prevented my L.O. from ending their life that day. I worry that in the future I might not be so lucky to prevent it. I know the statistics that the likelihood of them retrying is very high. Especially since this was the 2nd attempt. The KP has now been playing the victim. Stating that the patient is a dangerous person. That they are afraid of the patient their former lover/partner – whom they had groomed into the relationship. The scariest part is this provider is still allowed to practice while the Department of Health investigates all of this. I wanted to add a little about me. I spent 11.5 years running a company that cleans up after suicides and homicides. A crime scene clean-up company. I have taken thousands of phone calls from family members after a suicide. Never in a million years had I ever believed that I would be on the opposite side of that phone call. NEVER. I never thought I’d be saying my L.O. attempted suicide, or my L.O. killed themselves. I am no stranger to suicide and those who have experienced it. It is why I am such a huge advocate for mental health. It’s the reason I dropped my entire life and worked remotely in my L.O.’s city to make sure they were okay, so they weren’t alone as they were trying to deal with the PTSD from what they experienced from their K provider. I was trying to help navigate the darkness. Or sit in the dark so they weren’t alone. Because as someone with depression, I know how dark that dark is. My reason for writing this is because of the K provider I speak of. Is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. The KP has befriended a person on the Board of Directors for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention who is also an Investigator at the Department of Health (in which this event occurred). The KP has donated $1000 to the AFSP for the suicide awareness walk that will be hosted in the city. I find it fascinating they have collected a donation of $1000.00 from this KP for the Suicide awareness walk a ton. Is this HUSH HUSH MONEY ?? Is this cover-up money? Is the donation to get insider information on their case? Or to have the case altered in their favor? I am so sick to my stomach. At the thought of this or that the provider is allowed to be a sponsor.(granted they don't know the story.... well actually I have sent an email to their public relations department this morning) The audacity that the KP even has to make the community feel like they care about Suicide Awareness when they are the ones that caused someone to attempt suicide multiple times because they wanted to be in a relationship with their PATIENT. A mental HEALTH PATIENT. People do not seek K treatments because they are well. The K provider learned everything about my Loved One while they were under the influence of K, they made my loved one feel they were a safe provider and then they sucked my loved one into an adulterous relationship, left their spouse, broke up their family and abused my loved one; psychologically, emotionally, mentally, and verbally. So much so that my loved ones tried to kill themselves. On the second attempt my loved one tried to kill themselves in the parking lot of the K clinic in hopes it would bring media attention. I have been so angry that this K Provider is making a mockery of SUICIDE AWARENESS when they are such a sick and vile hazard to the community. I also find it disgusting that the KP uses SUICIDAL THREATS to keep control of people in their lives, as a crutch to manipulate people and keep them in their life. We have been very private about this situation as it is embarrassing to know our loved one was sexually assaulted by a practitioner. It has been a lot to digest to know that someone suffering from mental illness (depression and PTSD) has been sexually taken advantage of and all 3 of the people (K provider, Psych Nurse & LMHC) were supposed to be helping our loved one…. Were the ones that almost cost us their life. And we would all be grieving for the rest of ours. I felt like I needed to speak out. I am at a loss as to why the Department of Health is moving so slowly. I feel like I need to contact a new station or something and this needs to go public Nationwide so that people are aware of this predatory behavior. My Loved One is not well. This has exacerbated their PTSD/CTPSD and we are getting them help but its been a very long road and they are tired. So very tired. This has been a setback on so many levels. The story gets worse....there are even more evil things that have happened but this is all I care to share for now. I feel like we have been living in a Netflix Docuseries for the last year. My mental health has taken a toll. But I can tell you that my K Provider in my city has been nothing but wonderful and my experience with Ketmaine saved my life. My heart hurts that my loved ones' K provider and K almost cost them their life.

I was only 11. He was 12. You'd think that maybe as kids the things we did in a "relationship" would be tame. After all, it was both of our firsts. He emotionally manipulated me into doing things I didn't want to do. He made me say yes. Even after I said no a hundred times. He went on to 'cheat' on me and do the exact same to another girl. Me and her are friends now, we both look back at that time and laugh because, although he did horrible things overall that kid was really damn weird, just our way of healing is laughter. Like, he called both of us kitten lmfao.

When I was in my freshman year of high school, I was stoked. What 15 year old girl wouldn't be? New responsibilities, new school, new friends, and most importantly for our story, a new Cross Country team. On my new team there was a guy, lets call him Name (not his actual name). I was instantly drawn toward Name as he has the same condition as me (vitaligo). It gave us something to talk about, something to bond over and soon enough we were friends. I remember exercising with him and some friends on our team's stationary bikes, talking about normal stupid teenager things when it dawned on me that I thought he was attractive, maybe I even liked him a bit. Soon enough, fall had come to an end and the Cross Country season was over. Me and Name didn't talk after that, we just didn't have any classes together and by the time the incident happened, I had almost forgotten he existed. It was after school on a spring afternoon, and I was staying to practice some choir music in the choir room. After I was done with my work, I slipped out of the class to walk the halls for a bit, to see if I saw anyone I knew that I could talk to. Campus Security was sparse at the time, so it wasn't likely I was going to get caught walking around after school without a hall pass. Thats when I see one of my friends talking to Name in his JROTC uniform by the front of the school by the office and cafeteria. Happy to see the both of them, I walk up to say hello to them and almost immediately notice that something is off with Name. His eyes are glossy and red, and it doesn't seem like he's fully listening when you speak to him. I was unsettled at first by it but in my few months of highschool I had already learned that teenage drug use here was not uncommon. I just tried to brush it off, even though it worried me. I remember asking if he was on something, all I got was a smile and nod of his head. Soon enough my friend had to be picked up, leaving me alone with Name. I didn't feel uncomfortable at this point because it was fine if I knew him right? He'd never do anything bad to me, we were friends. He told me he was hot, and wanted to find somewhere colder, so we walked down one of the hallways in search of a cold room. We come to the stair well that leads to the second level of the school and go up so I can check and see if any of the empty classrooms are cold. He waits by the stairwell as I do so but I only get to check one classroom before he suggests the elevator by the stairwell. These elevators are normally locked, only accessible by special keys so students can't get into them. As he pulls a key from his back pack I remember that he'd injured his knee some time ago, I remember him using crutches for awhile. He used the elevator to get to the second story of the school while he was hurt, no wonder he had a key. This is where the memory gets a bit fuzzy, I start to get nervous as he compliments my new haircut, calling me cute and other words of affection. Being a 15 year old girl, I should've been excited with these sweet words, I should've been flattered and appreciative but I wasn't. I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling his eyes gave me. It wasn't long before he moved closer to me, hazy eyes piercing straight through mine. He then asked me for a hug, and I didn't exactly want to give him one but I was horrible at saying no, I grew up as a people pleaser. When he hugged me, I was immediately uncomfortable when I felt that he was hard through his pants. When he didn't pull back from the hug after a few seconds, I tried to push him away, to give him the signal that I was uncomfortable. He eventually let go after a few seconds but looked me in the eyes with a disgusting smile and started to kiss me. It was sloppy and disgusting and thats when I knew I needed to get out. I told him no and pulled away from him but he persisted. I felt so helpless. I told myself that maybe I should like it, that it was something I should appreciate because I used to like him. I didn't feel that way after he started unbuckling his pants. I started to tell him no more clearly and assertively but he cornered me in the elevator. I was so afraid that I was going to be raped, I'm a 4'11 120lbs girl being cornered by someone who was training to be in the military and almost a foot taller than me. I froze in fear as he groped me, sticking his hand in my underwear and pressing his bare penis againist me, humping me. I was almost in tears as I fearfully continued to tell him no, to stop. I just felt so violated and scared. When I realized that nobody was going to come save me, I pushed him off me with all my strength a few times before I was able to get out of the situation. When I went home that night, I worked up the courage to tell my best friend, who helped me through telling a trusted teacher about the incident the next day. The attention of the school officials, of my family and of the police was so scary to me. It made me feel like I was in trouble. I know now that I did the right thing.